Changing
by Kironomi
Summary: When Draco returns to his sixth year at Hogwarts, everything seems to have changed.Why doesn't he enjoy his friends company anymore?And why have his feelings for Harry changed?
1. Welcome back

Chapter 1-"Welcome back"

Draco sighed as the enormous castle appeared, behind the green and soaked hills. The rain poured so hard that it seemed like divine punishment to him. Thunders were striking, loudly, making an atmosphere of pure fear emerge.

This would be his sixth year at Hogwarts.

Yeah, it had passed a long time since he first attended that school.

"A long time indeed…"Draco whispered, to himself.

"Hum? What did you say?" asked a girl next to him.

"Nothing, Pansy"

She smiled and fixed her empty look on the floor.

Draco observed her, the girl who his parents thought of as the "perfect match". She was wealthy and had a huge…reputation, but she wasn't what Draco truly desired. But, then again, when was his opinion respected? If his father wanted his son to marry the obsolete figure that was sitting on the train's bench near him, there was nothing Draco could do. Not that his father could do something against Draco, since he was in prison.

A laugh, very similar to a pig's one, interrupted his thoughts. Draco looked around and saw Crabbe laughing at something Goyle was saying, probably one of his stories of beating up muggles.

Draco stared at his own reflex on the window, numb, and thought of the reason why he was surrounded by all these mundane companions.

He thought of this fake friendship and wondered if he could stand it for another year. Yes, he could just keep faking, just like them, and become an empty shell, just like them.

A year ago, these thoughts would be deeply covered by his father influential cloak and could be just forgotten. But not this year. Too much had changed in the past four months. Many feelings had invaded his mind, many doubts were troubling him. Many had changed since the Dark Lord's return was known.

The train stopped, making an agonizing sound.

Draco didn't move, still lost on his own thoughts

"Draco, aren't you coming?" asked Pansy, annoyingly interrupting the flood of questions with no answer that were airing on Draco's confused mind.

"Huh? Oh, yes! Sorry…"he said, hastily, grabbing his own trunk and getting out of the compartment.

He walked through the corridor of Hogwarts Express with a melancholic feeling of emptiness .If that was as brief as his own nights of sleep; it would be gone by dinner time.

Draco stepped out of the train, his arms firmly grabbed by Pansy's grips.

How he wished she would let him go!

Something reflected the moonlight in the darkness of the rainy night. It was…glasses.

Who wore them?

The person stepped forward. It was a tall, dark haired boy with a certain special scar on the forehead.

Draco spit onto the ground at the mere sight of him, his natural enemy.

"Potter…"he thought "I hope I'll catch you without your friends around this year!"

But the Potter boy didn't seem to notice him. He was sheltered under an umbrella, talking to the mudblood girl, Granger, and the weasel Weasley. He didn't seem as happy as he was the previous years, but Draco didn't care. Potter's sad look only made him want to mock him more.

Still, he held back, not knowing why. He just wasn't in the mood. He wanted to do it and, at the same time, he didn't.

Pansy opened the door of a carriage, letting go Draco's arm.

She entered, followed by the other three boys. The last one, Draco, looked through the window and saw that someone was starring at him, too. They looked each other in the eyes for moments that seemed like ages, before the carriage started moving.

Draco straightened up on the bench and contemplated on what had just happened. He was looking at him…No, he must have had looked at someone else. Potter wouldn't endure facing someone whose father worked under the Dark Lord's command. At least, not that peacefully. But then again, when did Draco start to understand Potter's feelings?

The carriage continued its path, which was surrounded by tall and dark trees and covered with holes; tricky holes that made the carriage shake during the entire trip.

It finally stopped in the front of the castle gates and Pansy descended of the carriage, sloppily, which made her soil herself.

"Urgh!" she muttered "Ew…my robes!"

Draco didn't find himself able to contain the laugh.

"Draco, don't laugh!" Pansy shouted, angry, her look clearly showing that she wanted to slap him.

"Oh, yeah? Then, go to the castle by yourself!" he screamed at her. Then, he crossed alone the path which led to the castle, under the heavy rain, leaving his friends behind, alone and perplexed.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Goyle wondered, not thinking too much about the question and only worrying about getting an umbrella.

*

Draco was one of the first students to arrive the Great Hall.

No-one greeted him and he greeted no-one in return .He didn't know anyone. Plus, he didn't feel like socializing. He just wanted to dine and, then, be left alone on his own bed.

Of course, that wouldn't be possible. At least, not after his explosion with Pansy and the others, few minutes ago. She would nag about it to death! He headed to the Slytherin table and sited.

Shortly after, other students appeared and, soon, all the tables were filled with happy faces, chatting with each other, telling about their summer to their friends. Pansy sited near him and pretended nothing had happened, just like Crabbe and Goyle. Draco observed Potter for a few moments. Why did he stare at him like that?

Then came the sorting ceremony and he saw other students being selected to other houses. Crabbe, Goyle and others from his table made fun of them.

Finally, the dinner started. Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy threw themselves onto the food, like a group of pigs.

Draco, however, didn't eat. God, he felt so bad! He didn't know what to do: Throw up, disappear or just go to sleep.

The food vanished and Dumbledore gave his little speech, and other crap that Draco was tired of.

So, when he found himself on the dorms, he threw himself onto the bed, exhausted. It had been a long day, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep. There were some rather exhausting thoughts on his mind.

Lying on the bed, in the darkness of the stormy night, Draco reminded Potter's look when he starred at him, at the carriage. He felt his heart heavy, like stone.

The supposed night of sleep was spent twisting and turning around in bed.

Dawn came, dragging a morning of fog and a constant threat of rain. The grey sky, almost as bright as the sleepless boy's eyes, seemed like a veil made of silk, covering the castle with a misty cloak of fear.

Draco got up and dressed up for the terrible day that he could see coming. In no time, he already had crossed the corridor towards the castle grounds. He saw the simple gamekeeper's cabin and the yard next to it, where there were pumpkins, probably cultivated there for the next Halloween.

He passed through that field and submerged into the forest, heading to the Black Lake. The trees around him were cornering him in a dark path that seemed to have no end.

At last, he saw it: The enormous Black Lake. The dark water flowed slowly and the small tide was swiping the sandy shore, in a monotonous way, as if the flow of the river was the most important and, yet, most insignificant thing in the world.

He walked towards the little wooden bridge that led to the center of the lake, enjoying the thick mist that was involving him.

"Solitude", the feeling that was striking him the most. It was in that foggy, obscured place that he could think more clearly. Being embraced by the fog gave him a rather cold comfort, a comfort which he was afraid and ashamed of.

He heard a sound. A raven had found shelter in a branch of an elm, not very far away from the place he was standing. The raven whistled; it seemed like he was laughing at him.

"Go away!" Draco shouted, resentful by the laugh.

The bird flew from the branch, with some mates that were in the nearer trees. Draco shrunk his shoulders.

"Just go to Hell! "

With a quick movement, he turned around and headed back to the castle.

*

Draco entered the classroom and kicked his satchel towards the desk. Finally realizing where he was, he looked around, scared.

"Phew…Severus' not here!" Draco whispered, then imitating his godfather«Draco, how is your father? He is doing that work? Has he gotten better from the fever? Blah, blah, blah, blah…»

"Hello, Draco!" he heard. Draco jumped, startled.

Severus Snape entered through a door behind his desk.

"Have you heard news from your father?" he asked, making clear that he didn't hear what Draco had said moments ago.

"No." Draco made a sad smile.

Other students entered the classroom and Draco sited, quickly, pretending to have not talked with Severus on that informal way.

Potter sited on the desk on the other side of the room.

"Great" Draco thought "I won't have to stare at his ugly face during class"

And, with a smirk, he started removing his material.

*

"What?! I only said that you and Ron have been hanging out together a lot!"

Draco looked towards the courtyard in front on him, where a heated scene was developing. He ran to a place where he could see it better, near a column.

Potter and Granger were arguing, surrounded by a mob of curious students. Weasley was near a tree, trying to hide himself. In the beginning, Draco tried to avert his eyes, but all the excitement of seeing his worst enemy fighting one of his best friends was overwhelming and awoke his teasing spirit.

"That's totally not true! We are just together because you don't hang out with us anymore!"

Potter seemed to control himself for a bit but, then, he shouted" Is it my fault that you leave me alone all summer, without writing, without caring at all?"

Draco leaned over the small wall near him, interested.

Granger calmed down a little, looked around, surprised to see that many people gathered.

"Harry…"She tried to grab Potter's hand, but he ran away, piercing through the mob.

Draco saw that he was heading towards the greenhouses. With a dark smirk, he told Crabbe and Goyle to go the Great Hall and followed the raven-haired boy's footsteps.

He opened the greenhouse's door. He wasn't sure of what to do, but this was a great chance to get out of that numb state he was in, by teasing Potter.

As he thought of this, something violently crashed on the wall near him. At his front was Potter, who had just thrown a pot at Draco.

"What?! Also you have something against me? "

"Oh, don't just get so full of yourself. I wouldn't get through this much trouble to just see you angry" Draco lied, still trying to recover himself from the fear he felt when the piece of pottery was thrown.

Potter walked towards Draco and only stopped when he was a meter away from him. Then, he looked into his eyes and Draco looked back.

"What's the matter? You got in a fight the girlfriend and now what to download it on me?" said Draco, carefully measuring his words so they would hurt, like needles, the angry boy before him.

The dark-haired boy suddenly grabbed Draco's neck, lifting him up above the ground.

"Oh yeah, Malfoy? You must think I'm a vermin that doesn't know its place, a bit of dirt that you must wipe out of your shinning shoes, but I must tell you, at least I'm not…"Potter seemed to hesitate in finishing the sentence.

Draco's face was turning, slowly, blue and he was desperate for air. Tears of pain were coming out of his eyes. Seeing this, Potter let him go and Draco fell on the floor. Coughing, he gasped for air.

"At least I'm not what, Potter?" Draco asked, looking at the boy's back with a mixture of curiosity and fear of being choked again.

Potter turned around, with a serious expression.

"At least, I'm not a Death Eater's son."

Saying this, he opened the door and left Draco in the filthy ground, crying at his own misery.

*

"Draco, are you ok?"

"Just scram, Goyle!" he yelled, irritated.

Crabbe and Goyle ran through the door, and Draco was soon left alone.

It was dinner time. Eating seemed… disgusting to him, right now. He was not worth it. His father was in Azkaban, right now, dying.

"And rightfully doing so… That motherfucker deserves it." Draco thought; his stomach was rumbling with hunger. He wanted to eat. He didn't want to eat.

Draco was feeling stupid and an absolute jerk. He was made fun of. Now, he knew how that felt like…

"And I'm a motherfucker, just like him" Draco kicked Crabbe's bed.

He reached out for the little basket under the bed, the basket with cakes that his mother sent, and started eating. He should eat, but didn't deserve to eat in the company of others.

As he ate the scone with cream, he was thinking of his humiliation on that afternoon, with disgust. He let his guard down and Potter managed to affect him badly. But, then again, Draco had deserved that. If Potter wasn't so nice, he would have beaten the hell out of Draco and Draco wouldn't mind, because he deserved it. It was his punishment for being a Death Eater's son and treating others like garbage.

He finished eating the last muffin and putted the basket under the bed, again. Then, he lie down on the bed and, even without putting the pyjama on, he, unexpectedly, fell asleep.


	2. Detention

Chapter 2-"Detention"

Draco opened, slowly, the eyes, still numb. He had a long night of sleep, as far as he could see. Since his room was in the dungeons, he couldn't see if it was night, morning or afternoon, but he was alone; Probably, Crabbe and Goyle were outside, studying, or just enjoying their Saturday by teasing and hurting others. Draco didn't want to get up, so he just ended up spending that hour bored on his own bed.

Only one thing was in his mind right now: his business with Potter. He would pay for the humiliation he made Draco go through, on the past Monday.

Without even noticing, Draco softly groped his own neck, feeling the marks that Potter had left on Monday. Draco felt his face hot, and looked in the mirror, to see his face really red.

"Maybe I'm brewing up some fever" he thought. It wouldn't be totally absurd, since he had made frequent visits to the Black Lake, every morning of that same week.

Feeling himself even warmer, Draco got up with a decisive expression on his face. He couldn't afford to be lazy in a Saturday, where he could spend his time studying and doing the horrifying amount of homework piled up through the week.

"Early bird gets the worm" said Draco, already stretching his arms out, with a yawn "But, in my case, I won't even catch breakfast."

He dressed up and went to the library, but all the tables were already filled with studious students, or those that, just like him, didn't like doing their homework during week.

Already angry, he went to the school grounds, and sited under a tree, near the gamekeeper's cabin. On that day, the sun was shinning, a fact that he found really annoying, since he was sensitive to it, even though he didn't like to admit it. His eyes were always semi-closed; his writing was irregular, due to base of the place he was writing in, and his hands were always trembling.

"Damn…"Draco whimpered "I'm going to catch a cold"

When the sun was already setting, he gave up and decided that his last work, Potions' composition, would be delayed to the next day.

He entered the castle and, feeling the sudden change of temperature, he hoped that he wouldn't get sick. A second later, he knew that his wish couldn't be fulfilled.

Potter had crossed the corridor in front of Draco and looked at him with an expression of disgust. Already feeling his hatred filling up his veins, Draco ignored it and headed to the dungeons. He didn't want anyone to know that he could be affected by Potter.

*

Since it was so sunny in the weekend, Draco thought that the week would be sunny as well, but he was wrong. Monday morning was already involved by the mist of the previous week. Time was running, slowly. He felt a little lost in classes, but he guessed it was normal, since he had just gotten back from vacations. He wasn't fitting in that boring routine. Draco continued his morning visits to the lake, every day, while everyone was sleeping. September was seeing its final days. A week more and autumn would be coming. The leaves started to fall from the trees, covering the lake.

It was raining that week. It was Wednesday morning and he would have Potion class after the break. He was inside, strolling alone, as usual, when, all of a sudden, someone hit him in the face. He fell, sliding in the floor. Quickly, he looked up and saw the guy that hit him:

"Potter! What the—"

He had no time to finish the sentence for Potter had punched him again on the cheek. Draco rushed; he got up and kicked Potter in the stomach, since he was too far away to punch him. Potter jumped on top of him and knocked him down on the floor, still staying on top of Draco.

"Where the fuck is it?!"

"What are you talking about?" asked Draco, a bit scared and with the face aching.

Potter punched again:

"Don't pretend you don't know!"

Draco looked at his left, due to the strength of the punch and saw that almost all the students of Hogwarts were surrounding them, some whispering; some, shouting. He looked at Potter again. He had his arm raised and prepared for another punch, but someone appeared behind him, grabbing his arm and disappearing between the mob with him. Soon after, the same happened to Draco. It was Filch who carried him. Actually, Draco didn't know if it was Filch or a troll, but he guessed it didn't make that much of a difference. Why had Potter punched him? That's what was troubling him the most; that and the blood that he was feeling in his mouth. Filch stopped at a gargoyle statue. He muttered something and the statue gained life, turned around and revealed some stairs. Filch threw Draco onto the stairs.

"Dumbledore is expecting you." he said, and disappeared into the corridor.

Draco got up and went upstairs. There was an old wooden door. Some voices were talking behind it. One of them sounded louder.

"Enter, Draco."

Draco did such. How did the old man know he was there?

Potter was sited in a chair, turned to the desk where Dumbledore was writing on some papers.

"Please, sit." Dumbledore asked, not looking once at Potter or at Draco.

Draco sited and waited for Dumbledore to speak. He didn't look at Potter.

"I guess you know why you are here. Explain yourself."

No-one talked.

"You first, Harry."

Potter seemed reluctant to talk, but, at last, he said:

"It's his fault."

Draco felt indignant, but said nothing. His fault? His fault?!

"Why, Harry? What did he do? My sources tell me that it was you who started to punch him."

"Yes, but…He stole my broomstick!"

Draco didn't contain himself:

"What?!" he shouted, getting up of the chair and facing Harry "Are you insane? Why me? "

"Well, you're my only school enemy, aren't you?" Harry shouted back, angry.

"Calm down." Dumbledore asked, nicely. Surprisingly, that was enough and the boys sited down again.

"When was your broomstick stolen, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

"Hum…Between Saturday night, when I usually practise, and this morning, when I noticed it was missing."

"Draco, do you know where Gryffindor common room is?"

"No" answered Draco, but he actually knew it. If he said yes, it would have worsened his current situation.

"See, Harry?"

"How do I know he's not lying? He probably stole it just to laugh at my face. That's what he usually does."

"Is that true, Draco?"

"I guess…"

A long silence followed Draco's words. Then, Dumbledore said, sad:

"Very well. You two shall be punished with detention the next two weeks, starting Monday."

Draco sighed with the sight of being with Potter two entire weeks, but said nothing.

"Harry, you may go. Draco, stay; we need to talk."

Surprised, Draco stayed on the chair. Potter left and Dumbledore started a conversation with Draco.

"You didn't do it, right, Draco?"

"No."

Even though he didn't like Dumbledore, it was a relief seeing that someone believed in him.

"Very well. Then, how have you been?"

Draco almost laughed at this question. Dumbledore asking him how he was? Was the world upside down? But he answered truthfully.

"Awful."

"I'm sad to hear it."

"Where is this heading?" Draco thought.

"Is it because of your father?" asked Dumbledore.

Draco got up instantly.

"May I go now?" he asked, his voice already trembling at the reference of his father.

Dumbledore took a while to answer.

"You may, Draco. But remember this: You don't need to follow your father's footsteps. Instead, walk with your own feet"

Without answering, Draco hushed to the door and headed back to the dungeons.

*

Draco entered the greenhouse, upset. His first time alone in detention with Potter… Draco hoped Potter wouldn't try to beat him up again. He hated to admit it, but Draco was weaker than Potter. At least, in strength.

Professor Sprout gave them instructions:

"Well, all you've got to do is to squeeze these ones over here. Erm, have you got your gloves?"

He and Potter nodded, gloomy. Professor Sprout seemed almost scared.

"Oh, are we happy today! Well, and next you must plant some of the seeds in that bag over there on those orange pots next to the ladder. Have you understood everything?"

None of the boys answered, both of them looking furiously toward the pots. With a sigh, Professor Sprout left the greenhouse.

Draco sited in a chair and did nothing. Potter just stood there, looking fixatedly towards a plant that had no obvious interest. This would be a long night of detention.

Of course that, when professor Sprout returned at 11 o'clock, they had done nothing, but she actually didn't notice; such was the mess in that greenhouse. She said that they were free to go for that night and had to return there on the next day, at the same hour.

When Draco was leaving, Potter passed right next to him and pushed him. Draco fell in the ground and Potter continued his path.

*

They were in the middle of the fall already. That was the first day of the second week of detention and Draco was already desperate. How much time had he spent with Potter on the previous week? Potter was always hurting him, if that's possible, in a soft way. Delicate kicks in the knees, with the exact amount of strength need to take Draco down, to force him to fall. Potter may seem nice to other, but to Draco, he was the pure Devil.

That's why he found that particular Monday night detention bizarre.

As soon as professor Sprout left the greenhouse, Potter started to move the pots around and plant some seeds. Draco wouldn't want to be left behind, compared to Potter, so he started working too. He squeezed some of the plants, which emitted a spooky sound, almost like they were moaning. Trying to get that idea away from his mind, he stopped dealing with them and planted some seeds too. When the time came for watering the plants, he tried to pick up the watering can, but found out that it was too heavy for him. He was trying to think of some other way to water the plants, when a whisper pierced the silence in the greenhouse:

"Don't worry. I got it."

Potter was already watering Draco's plants, with a troubled expression on his face. Draco was too shocked to reply. The guy that had bullied him for an entire week was now being nice? What was the trick? In any case, Draco would remain cold-hearted. That guy was the same that humiliated him, on that same greenhouse, just a month ago. Obviously, he wouldn't want Draco to befriend him. They were natural enemies and that was the way it would be, forever.

But, just to keep the innocent party of the story, he replied:

"Thanks."


	3. Changing trees

Chapter 3-"Changing trees"

Draco looked up at the restless sky and opened the umbrella. The rain made him fragile, uneasy. He halted when he was already deep within the dark forest and closed the umbrella.

Fat drops of water fell on his face, mixing with others that passed unnoticed on his pale skin, now even paler with the cold. Suddenly, Dumbledore's advice appeared on his until now blank mind.

"Walk with your own feet, huh?" he muttered, with a sad smile on his face.

Dumbledore, Potter…All that had happened in the past weeks was like a dream to him. It seemed unreal that the Golden Boy and Dumbledore cared so much about him. At least, that was Dumbledore's case. Now, Potter was a whole different thing. His sudden friendship was like a mystery to him. If you can classify helping someone watering some plants friendship, that is.

Still, it was surprising.

A squirrel ran up a tree near Draco, probably hiding from the rain.

"Hum…I wonder if that thing believes that the rain is going to stop."

The squirrel jumped on to another tree, a larger one.

Draco smiled.

"Naïve…"

And with a brusque movement, he turned around and ran to the castle.

"Maybe I should really change to a larger tree." he thought, serious.

He entered the Great hall for lunch. The enchanted ceiling was really reflecting the weather outside. Was the rain ever going to stop?

But then again, he didn't want it to stop. Sun was hideous and the fog was depressing. Perhaps this was the best.

At the Gryffindor table, he saw Potter and his friends together, chatting, happily.

"Vain happiness" he thought "isn't for me."

To him, they were oblivious to the hard things of life. They clung onto Harry, who protected them, in name of that so-called friendship.

As he thought of this, he saw that a pair of eyes was observing him. Potter got up from the table and left the Great Hall. As he passed through the door of the Great hall, he looked at Draco and gave him a sign to follow him. With utter revolt he did so, with a safe distance of ten meters, since he knew what Potter was really capable of. Not as the powerful Golden Boy, but as Harry Potter, his total and natural enemy.

Potter stopped at a corner of the first floor and Draco waited for a group of Hufflepuffs to clear out.

Then, he reached Potter.

"What do you want?"

Potter stayed silent, seeming hesitant to ask something.

"What is it, Potter? I haven't got all day!"

"Well, this has been bothering me for quite a while…Do you know who stole my broom?"

Draco grinned.

"Apparently, it was me, right?"

Harry seemed to be controlling his anger. He closed his fist and, then, continued.

"I…I know it wasn't you…"

"How do you know?" asked Draco, now curious.

"I found it."

"Oh, yeah?" laughed Draco "Where, in your room?"

Harry took long to answer, like he was measuring if he should tell Draco or not.

"In a place very far away from here. A place that you couldn't possibly have known." he mumbled.

"Where?" repeated Draco.

"You don't need to know."

Draco gave up trying to guess where the broom was found, so he tried another strategy.

"When did you find it?"

Potter seemed uncomfortable.

"On the Saturday before the second week of punishment."

Draco threw his head backwards, not containing a laugh.

"So, that's why you were nice to me!"

Potter seemed to shrink in embarrassment. The Golden Boy seemed so small now!

"No…I mean, I thought I had treated you badly and tried to punish you for something hadn't done, so it was only-"

"Did I ask you for niceness?!" bellowed Draco, making the sentence echoing through the corridor "Do you think you can play around with me, that I'm going to surrender to your wimps, like everyone else? I know that you have hated me since the very first day we met, here and I've got to say…I feel like that too!"

Potter didn't say a thing and Draco limited to reach the window and stare at the rain outside, through the coloured panels.

"I'm not like Granger and Weasley, Potter! I'm not even your friend, to begin with! You always looked up on me and I've always hated you and that's the way it's supposed to be…"

"Why?" interrupted Harry.

Draco waited Potter to complete his question.

"I mean, why does it have to be like that? To me you were always just a snob. To you, I was the guy you were meant to hate. But why, Draco? I know you're not like that anymore! I know that you've changed, that you're free, now. Or is it because I'm a Gryffindor and you're from Slytherin?"

The rain seemed to loose its strength and the corridor was in absolute silence.

"Why do you want to befriend me, Potter?"

"I…I just think you're worth the trouble."

Draco turned around to face a very troubled Harry.

"I ought to say to you…I'm total crap."

Potter said nothing and Draco smiled, sad.

"Soon, you won't have to worry about me at all."

Potter seemed surprised and confused.

"What do you mean?"

Draco turned around and left the silent corridor.

*

It was Saturday, 31st October.

The castle was sweetly involved by the fog. This day was, beside Halloween, the day when the students were to visit Hogsmead and relax by buying candies and hanging out.

Draco stayed at the castle. He was the only one in Slytherin that did so. He slept all morning and, after lunch, went for a walk. He had noticed that Potter also stayed in the castle.

"Too bad" he muttered, sarcastically "I was planning to do it in the afternoon…It will be better in the moonlight, when everyone is celebrating Halloween. No chance in getting interrupted."

The nature looked beautiful on that day. Large leaves were constantly falling from the trees, seeming like red feathers falling from the sky. Maybe they were angels. Draco wondered if there were some up there, in what is called Heaven. Was there one looking after him? If there was, they were doing a pretty lousy job.

His mouth opened in a smirk. A squirrel climbed up a tree and then jumped to another.

"Well, what do you know?" Draco shouted at the squirrel, talking more to himself than to anyone else "Changing trees like that…I'm not like you, I can't betray anyone."

A voice deep inside him whispered that there was no-one to betray, but he still ignored it and continued the stroll.

The voice was right in one thing; he was alone. On one side he had his imprisoned father and the sinister figure of the Dark Lord and on the other there was Potter and Dumbledore, offering him freedom and hope he knew he would never feel.

If he followed his father, he would end up collapsing, but he knew he could never collaborate with the people that really wanted to help him. He would be of great trouble to them. A pain in the ass, as most people would call it.

Sighing, he sited abruptly on top of a mossy rock in the ground. Then, he heard a cracking sound that pierced the silent forest.

"Come on, show up." asked Draco.

The answer was pretty obvious, but he still was surprised.

"Potter? What the hell are you doing here?"

He didn't answer and instead sat next to Draco, on a tree branch that had fallen on the leaf-covered ground.

"I ask the same to you."

"Just enjoying my free time." Draco answered "And you? Aren't you supposed to be with your friends?"

"Nah…They really are no fun these days, you know? They are dating."

"Aah, that's a first." laughed Draco both at the perspective of Weasley dating anyone and at the fact that he and Potter were actually having a normal conversation, as if they were friends. Better yet, as if they weren't enemies.

"Are you ok?" asked Harry, in a small voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you really have been looking depressed and I've heard some rumours that you are to leave school to join the Death Eaters." said Harry

Draco got up from the rock and looked at Harry, angry.

"Are you mocking me?"

"No, of course not! I just am repeating the rumours!" Harry defended himself.

"And do you believe them?"

Harry did not speak.

Draco rose from the tree branch and stood there, in silence, waiting for an answer. The thick clouds seemed to gather above the boys' heads, in silence, also waiting for the response.

"Of course not, Draco! I could never-"

"That probably means you do…" muttered Draco.

"Of course not! Do you think I would, after all that talk of believing in you?!"

Draco seemed to think in Potter's statement, but he was really surprised at himself. This idea caused him a great pain: he, caring about Potter? Maybe the world was really turning upside down.

"Draco…I…I really like you." Harry whispered, almost like he didn't want Draco to hear what he had just said.

"Is that true?"

Harry didn't seem to find any words to explain himself. He just stared at Draco and watched him being filled with despair, slowly realizing what was really happening. Why was Potter there, consoling him? Why did he care? Why did he feel like burning when he was close to him?

"Draco!"

Draco turned around and ignored Potter's shouts. He ran through the forest's path towards the Black Lake. Potter was running behind him, almost catching Draco.

He sped when he saw the shore of the Black Lake. He reached the wooden bridge. The trees around the lake were tied together, forming a prison of wood. The boards underneath him creaked with his steps. Not many metres behind him, the same sound seemed to chase him. He remembered the first time he had seen Potter. He remembered the stabbing pain he felt when he realized he was out of reach. He knew why he had always hated him. A sordid pain stabbed him, which he now recognized as having nothing to do with hate. He reached the end of the bridge, tears already watering down his eyes. It was already too late for regret.

A moan was released from his mouth, as he felt his arms being clutched by a hug. He felt his chest being pierced. It wasn't fair. Why did he have to die? Why was it the only way to be free? He gasped for air and felt the moist impregnate in his clothes, devouring him.

His entire body was sore and weak. The water in the Black lake, the darkest he had ever seen, flowed gently, as if nothing had happened. Without even seeing them, Harry dried the tears away from Draco's eyes and Draco felt Harry's cold hands, without being able to reach them.

The fog wrapped around the boys' bodies made them feel even closer.

Harry released the hug, slowly, without allowing Draco to jump on to the water, not knowing that he already didn't want to. Then, he pulled Draco to him and kissed his forehead.

"Don't be stupid. I've lost too many important people on this day."


	4. Snow

Chapter 4""

Draco turned around in bed, the sheets following his movements.

"What the hell am I doing…" he muttered, swept away by the confusion he was feeling right now. The chamber was silent, almost desert.

He felt his heart hurt, all of a sudden. He had seen Harry's face on his thoughts. That happened to him a lot, recently, but he didn't even know if Harry felt that same way about him. He had walked in the Forbidden forest that same afternoon, alone with Potter. He liked it but at the same time, he was afraid; afraid to find out what Harry's feelings were. Did he consider him as an ex-enemy, a friend or something more? Harry's words from nearly a month ago troubled him.

What did he meant with the word "like"? A pitiful "like", a friendly "like" or another kind of "like" that Draco had never felt before?

Realizing that he wouldn't get any sleep that night, he got up and put on his uniform and robes. He sat on the bed and looked around the cold and empty chamber. His colleagues were out for Christmas' vacations. A year ago, he would be home as well, with his mother and father. He couldn't say he would be particularly happy or that that sounded thrilling as it once did, but it was a comfort to him. But with his father arrested for life, what did seem happy for him? Everything was now grey.

Except…

Wearing a smile on his lips, Draco got up from the bed and stared at the fire in the fireplace. The haunting green glow, cold and unstable, bewitched him and made him travel into the depths of his own soul. Admitting that such thing existed, that is. If he plunged deeper into it, would he be obliged to express his feelings?

Sighing, he opened the chamber's door, entered the green-lit common room and left to the corridors.

Hoping not to run into Filch, he slid through the corridors and, finally, was able to get to the first floor. Feeling lost, he tried to recognize the portraits, but failed at doing so. It was rare of him to walk in the upper floors, since he had few classes there and even then, he would just follow other students.

He gave a cry of joy. Ten meters away from where he was standing, a staircase was finishing its movement. He ran towards it, but stopped before reaching the first step.

In the last step, looking as surprised as Draco was Harry.

They just stared at each other, utterly surprised; none of them moved from their places. Draco's face was bright pink. He knew it. He felt it.

The staircase started moving and Draco jumped onto the first step, impulsively.

He regretted it later. He was now stuck with Harry until the staircase stopped again, god knows where. That would take only seconds, but, to Draco, every second extra with Harry was a threat. What if he couldn't control himself?

Harry got down from the upper steps and stopped in the step above Draco:

"How unexpected to see you here. Aren't you going to spend Christmas at home?"

Draco looked away:

"Well, now I don't really have a home to run to, do I?"

Harry stayed silent until the staircase stopped.

"I hope I didn't screw up…"Draco thought, regretting even more his night walk and walking out of the staircase, now in the other side of the floor. Where was he? Not far behind, he heard Harry breathing.

"Weren't you supposed to leave on the other side of the floor?" asked Draco, feeling his chest heavy.

"And you? Weren't you going up?"

Harry was right. Draco was in such a daze when he saw Harry that he lost himself.

"I…Really don't want to go anywhere…"

Harry got close to Draco.

"Then, you want to go to my dorm?" Harry whispered to Draco, who jumped, startled by the sudden and unexpected proposal.

"No!" he shouted, backing a few metres. What did Harry mean by that?

Harry stared deeply into Draco's eyes and a sad smile was drawn on his lips.

"I'm sorry if I scared you. I was just kidding…"

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but, not very far, something echoed in the big corridor. Harry stared at Draco, scared, and without warning, clutched Draco's arm and ran into an open door, closing it behind him.

"What the hell, Potter?!"

Looking terrified, Harry put his hand on Draco's mouth, to prevent him from speaking or letting any sound out.

Troubled, Draco tried to release himself, but was unable to do so. Harry was really strong. He was looking through the lock on the door, breathing slowly, looking like he feared what was beyond the door. And Draco feared it too.

"C'mon, dear. Looks like no-one's here. Too bad, I thought I'd catch Potter this time."

Draco shivered, both because of Filch and Harry's body being so close to his. It was too much for him to handle. His heart's pounding was maddening, fearing both the closeness with Potter and the fact that it would be all over in few seconds.

But that moment seemed to never come. Harry still held Draco, many minutes after Filch's steps stopped.

Draco looked up and saw that Harry was looking at him. They stayed like that for a minute and, then, without a word, Harry released Draco, opened the door and disappeared.

Not wasting any time, Draco did the same and half an hour later, he found himself sitting in a chair in the Slytherin's common room, thinking deeply about the bizarre events of that long night. All the fireplaces were lit and that awful green light that illuminated the dungeons was trembling, creating shapes in shadows, in the armchairs and on the couch. His eyes hurt, maybe because he was tired. It was probably 4 am and he hadn't got any sleep that night. But was it normal for tears to come out when one was tired? Or was that another effect of meeting Potter?

Draco couldn't admit his own feelings for he was too ashamed of them. He would never speak of them or even think of them. That's what he had sworn but didn't have the strength to fulfil.

With a sudden gust of rage, he threw a small wooden globe that was in the desk onto the ground, making it break into two.

"Why am I like this?! Why did I fall for him?!" he cried out, loudly.

Draco fell on his knees and faced the Persian tapestry that decorated the floor.

Maybe he had shouted at Harry for nothing; maybe Potter knew that Draco was alone and was trying to be friendly and kind. He had made a fuss over something that had no meaning. There was no way Harry would have been serious. He was over thinking it.

And, with those thoughts on his mind and new tears in his eyes, he sat again on the carved chair and fell asleep, embraced by the cold fire of the fireplace.

*

When he woke up in the next morning, for moments he didn't remember what had happened in the previous night. But then, his swollen eyes hurt and memories of his strange encounter with Harry came back to him, in a flash. He felt a knot on his throat, and strange moisture corroded his own body, like if he had been too much time under water. The green aura of the common room didn't improve his gloomy mood. It made him uneasy, instead.

By his calculations, he had gotten back to the dungeons by 3 am. He glanced over the couch towards a clock that occupied a corner of the common room. Its –almost black- painting camouflaged in the dark stone wall, dirtied over the years by the many spells that had hit it.

In the clock both the minutes and hours' pointed indicated noon. Draco gasped in surprise. He had slept how many hours?!

That was really rare of him, to sleep well.

Without any further delay, he decided to have lunch in the Great Hall.

As he reached it, he opened his mouth, overwhelmed by the beautiful trinkets that decorated the enormous Christmas tree that was placed in the centre of the Hall. Little and pretty angels floated around in mid-air, seeming to be alive. He entered the Great Hall, thinking if the decorations had been put that morning there or if they were already there, even thought Draco hadn't realize it.

He sat by the table, without even noticing which house it belong to.

Then, he noticed. There was only one table.

"Must be because of the lack of students." Draco thought, observing the people sitting by the table. Most of them were teachers and a couple of them were was only one person that wasn't there, a person that Draco wanted to be there and, at the same time, didn't.

The food appeared magically on the terrines and the trays and Draco hurried eating. He thought it was rather nice, sitting with other people at the table that were cheerful and happy, even though nobody talked to him. To his eyes, he was a Death Eater's son or a Death Eater himself.

His heart skipped a beat as he realized that that was the first time he noticed such small things, like seasonal joy. Maybe having these sorts of feelings towards someone mellowed one's heart.

Lunch ended quickly and soon enough the students were all dismissed. The sky as shown in the Great Hall was dark, but with no sign of rain, so he guessed that most students would give a walk in the grounds.

Because of that or just because he didn't want to meet Harry, he decided to go to the dungeons and read a book, or simply rest.

Just when he was reaching the stairs to go to the dungeons, someone bumped into him.

"Oh, so-"

Draco didn't finish his sentence. It was Harry. He looked surprised at him and Draco froze.

A roar echoed through the castle and Draco saw Filch on the top of the stairs.

"Stop right there!" he bellowed, in vain.

Harry grasped Draco's hand and started running.

"Hey" Where are you taking me?" shouted Draco, while being dragged. He wasn't seeing a thing, still overwhelmed by the fact that Harry was holding his hand.

Harry didn't reply. Instead, he ran faster and they soon had past the Great Hall into the deserted cloister, directed to Hagrid's shack.

"Harry, wait! We're safe now!"

But he didn't listen and immersed into the Dark forest.

After a minute of running, Draco ran out of energy and fell, exhausted, onto the ground.

As he felt the cold, but soft ground, he realized that it was snowing. He had had his eyes focused on Harry during the race so he didn't notice it.

Harry also stopped, gasping, flustered because of the race.

Panting, Draco got up on his knees and dragged himself next to Harry, leaning his head on the tree. He observed the footprints on the ground, which looked like coal in the midst of a white sheet.

"What…the Hell…was that about?"

"…sneaked into Filch's office last night."

"Why did you do that?"

"I don't know…Guess I was pretty bored…"

Draco laughed

"And may I ask why you ran away with me?"

"You looked pretty bored too…"

Draco laughed again, now breathing properly.

Snowflakes were falling, slowly, covering the already white ground .A log, not very far away, was almost fully covered with snow.

Draco gasped. That was the same log he sat on, almost two months ago. He could remember it: It had the same shape.

So, they were in the same part of the forest as before.

The memories of that event rushed into Draco's mind and he felt his chest tighten.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry.

"I don't want to do that again."

Even though his words were vague and his voice uncertain, Harry understood.

"I won't let you!"

Draco looked up and Harry smiled:

"You have snow on your eyelashes…"

Draco smiled too and Harry leaned over him. His hair was covered with snowflakes.

Harry lifted his left hand up to Draco's face and wiped Draco's tears and the snowflakes with his finger; he got closer and that made Draco close his eyes, scared.

The moment he did so, he felt Harry's cold lips pressed against his. Despite the coldness, he felt good.

Harry moved his hands up to the back of Draco's head. He ruffled his hair passionately and deepened the kiss.

Draco grasped Harry's shirt, already breathless and Harry broke the kiss, breathless as well.

He stroke Draco's neck and, slowly, directed his right hand to his chest, wet because of the snow that had melted. His hands were cold, yet Draco felt so warm…

Draco's head was spinning so hard that he thought he would cry again. He imitated Harry and put his hands on his own chest, over Harry's hand.

Harry kissed him in the neck and leant his head over on Draco's shoulder.

"I love you." He whispered, as if telling a secret.

Draco closed his eyes.

"I love you too."


	5. More!

Chapter 5-"More!"

Draco curled in bed, with a happy sigh.

He was, for the first time in months, in that state of bliss called happiness. It actually looked like a new filter had been put on his eyes and he now saw everything more blue, more red, more vivid.

The week following the kiss was fantastic. He was anxious for dawn to come so he could meet Harry and actually feared the time, at night, when he would say goodbye to his beloved.

Every time he would go see him in the morning, in front of the great Hall, he would ran to him and ask him to skip breakfast and just go together with him for a walk, make snowmen and have fun.

Then, Harry would say he needed extreme energy to drag Draco around (since many times Draco would just collapse in the middle of the forest due to his tiredness) and they would end up eating breakfast, both away from the other students and each other. They didn't want scandals.

Draco couldn't complain, though. He liked that their relationship was just like a little secret of theirs, hidden from the rest of the world; his comfort, his source of happiness.

Nevertheless, Draco wasn't fully satisfied.

Even though that was part of his selfish ego, he wanted more.

They were dating, but that wasn't enough. The first kiss had been the only and Draco felt that Harry was holding back. Yet, that didn't concern him. He liked just holding hands and hugging; feeling Harry's sweet and tight embrace still made his chest tighten so much that it was clear that his heart's strength was Harry's love.

No, the reason why he was so unsatisfied was school itself. Christmas' holidays were almost over; soon all students would return and their privacy would be gone. They would no longer be able to be together and they would have to keep that charade of enemies…

Draco chuckled, emptily. He was now remembering the last time he thought of Harry as an enemy, in a bitter afternoon, on a greenhouse illuminated by sunset. He could almost hear Harry's harsh words on that dirty place.

"A Death Eater's son…"

That's what Harry had called him. Did he still think of Draco like that? Feeling numb for making himself sick, he grabbed the sheets, crying. Now that he had confessed his feelings and that he knew Harry also shared them, he wouldn't stand if what Harry said he felt about him turned out to be only half-hearted feelings or, worse, a stupid prank to make him fall into his hands. He lifted his head up to the mirror in front of the single-sized bed and saw his own demented looks, his eyes distorted by a maddening anguish. He then woke up from that state of mind, scared.

Draco was surprised at himself.

How could he think so badly of the person he loved? How could he think that a conspiracy could be the reason for Harry's love? His lack of confidence astonished him. He needed fresh air, to breathe properly and stop brooding on that gloomy and cold bedroom.

He striped off his shirt and pyjamas and hurried to dress up the grey slacks, the white shirt and the black sweater, for the air in the dungeons was too cold and hostile for a decent person to live in; too poisonous for their mind. Maybe that was the reason why all Slytherin turned to the Dark Side.

Draco left the dungeons swearing to himself not to conjure any more stupid theories.

*

That day, Harry wasn't waiting for him. Draco peeked into the Great Hall and saw him at the end of the table. He quickly sat on the opposite side and ate, even finishing before Harry. Then, he looked up to the ceiling. The sky was a mantle of a light grey, so light that it looked white, almost. He then glared at Harry.

"C'mon…look…" he thought, already impatient with him.

Finally, Harry did so and, catching a glimpse of the desperate Draco, stared at him.

Content, Draco gave him a significant look and muttered with his lips, no sound leaving his mouth:

"5 minutes…at the clock…"

Harry nodded slightly and then faced the toast on his hand.

Draco looked around and, reaching the conclusion that no-one saw their secret exchange of mute words, got up, and left the Great Hall.

The corridors and the yard were empty, as expected, and Draco waited for Harry on the passage on the opposite of the clock tower. He sat on the small wall, and then heard the clock ticking 9 hours. It wasn't as late as he expected; the time he spent drifting on the bed had seemed like an eternity to him. Could he tell Harry his doubts? How would Harry react if Draco told him those things and asked if he loved him? Would Harry laugh at him, or would he even break up with him?

Or perhaps he would confirm it…

Draco shook his head. He was being ridiculous and pretty dubious himself. How could he think that of Harry?

Reaching the same conclusion he had reached just half an hour ago, he leaned his head over the column and seeing Harry appear on the door of the Clock Tower, he left those worries behind.

As soon as he saw him, Harry ran to him, smiling:

"Sorry…They a lot of time finishing breakfast and if I left right away, they would notice it."

"Ah, no problem! But wouldn't they notice if you were stalling?"

Harry seemed hesitant for a moment.

"I don't think they are able to think about something so complex." He said, putting an end to the discussion.

Draco laughed and they both left the passage to the snow-covered campus. It was a beautiful sight; even the Whooping Willow was covered with the heavenly substance.

They were already going down the hill towards the dark Forest when Harry grabbed Draco's hand.

"I…don't feel like going to the forest today." said Harry.

"Oh, ok. Do you want to go back to the castle?"

"I don't want to do that as well." muttered Harry, pausing for a moment" Do you mind if we stay on the passage, on those stairs?"

"No, of course not…" replied Draco, still surprised by Harry's request.

They sat on the little, time-consumed steps, close to each other, silent; the only human figures to be seen on that part of the castle.

Draco leaned his head over Harry's shoulder, wondering what he was thinking about with that unusually serious face.

After minutes of silence and contemplation, Harry talked.

"I'm afraid."

Draco looked up at Harry and saw a worried look stamped on his face.

"What of?" asked Draco.

"School is almost starting…I will have to hide us from my friends. I don't think I will be able to do so, so that means we will have to be, for a long time, away from each other. I don't think I will be able to do that as well."

Draco sighed sadly:

"I'm afraid of that as well. I don't want to be your enemy again. I'm so lonely if you're not around…"

"It doesn't have to be like that, you know?" said Harry.

"What do you mean?" asked Draco.

"We will tell them when classes start, ok?"

"Tell who?"

"Our friends…"

Draco smiled. He didn't have any friends to tell that to but, still, he didn't say anything. Knowing that Harry's feelings were so strong, so true…It meant the world to him."

"Promise." demanded Harry, with a warm smile.

Draco searched for Harry's left hand and twirled his fingers around his:

"I promisse."

Harry turned and faced Draco in the eyes. Draco saw that he was hesitant in asking something.

"What's wrong?"

"I…want more than just a kiss." said Harry, in a whisper" And if I kiss you now, I probably won't be able to stop."

This time, Draco was the one that kissed him. Abruptly, he pressed his lips against Harry's and hugged him, throwing him onto the cold stone steps.

He then broke the kiss and Harry grabbed his hand in a rush, lifting Draco and dragging, like that time they were chased by Filch.

They returned to the castle.

The corridors were surprisingly silent and empty and Harry halted at the end of the bottom floor, deciding whether they were going up to the first floor or down to the dungeons.

"Where do you want?"

Draco blushed slightly, realising what it meant to answer.

"The Slytherin's common room."

Harry quickly got downstairs, jumping 2 steps at a time. Smiling, Draco wondered for how long Harry had been holding back.

When they reached the stone passage, Draco said the password, trembling, and they entered. He was starting to get nervous.

Oh, he wanted it. A warm feeling was covering his entire body, like when Harry first kissed him. He wanted it so much, but he was afraid. The Slytherin didn't know what to do.

He sat on the velvet sofa and Harry kissed him. Draco lay down and Harry put himself on top of him, kissing him now on the neck.

Harry took Draco's sweater off and started undoing his shirt's buttons. Whenever Harry touched him, Draco gasped; his skin was now really sensible to Harry's touch and he reacted strongly, especially when Harry licked his nipples.

Harry trailed his way down Draco's chest with sweet, little kisses, while Draco, trembling, grabbed his hair, clearly feeling pleasure. Harry stopped under his bellybutton and licked that part.

"Ah-ah!" Draco gasped, feeling Harry's tongue covering that sensible place. His mind was, slowly, going blank.

He then felt Harry's hesitant fingers unzip the blonde's pants and touch his warm erection, trough his boxers.

Draco moaned, knowing already what Harry would do next.

Harry pulled Draco's boxers down and touched Draco's phallus. He licked it, softly, with the tip of his tongue.

Draco's mind went completely blank and he could only feel Harry's gestures.

He closed his eyes and soon Harry was taking in Draco's erection completely, his hand touching it as well.

Draco was also hearing his own loud moans, increasing as Harry licked him more and more.

And then, in a second of total blindness and pleasure, he felt something electrical run across his body and the scream he was holding back inside his chest was released, as well as the pressure inside his lower member.

"Ah…ah…"Draco gasped heavily for air. His eyes were still closed, but he felt Harry pulling his boxers up in an awkward silence.

"Why…Why are you so quiet, Harry?"

Draco opened his eyes for Harry stayed silent. He looked at him, who was starring at a point above Draco's head with a scared face.

"Hey…Where are you looking at?"

And, turning over to the right, he saw the perplexed and obsolete figure of Pansy Parkinson.


End file.
